Out of Hand
by CanuckGirl2
Summary: A Matthew & Mary AU. Circa November 1930. The childish pranks of Master Peter Crawley innocently lead to a chain of events that Matthew and Mary never saw coming, threatening the stability of what they hold most dear.
1. Chapter 1

_A Matthew & Mary AU. Circa November 1930. The childish pranks of Master Peter Crawley innocently lead to a chain of events that Matthew and Mary never saw coming, threatening the stability of what they hold most dear._

 _My first multi-chapter story! This is a little more angst-ridden then my other fanfic, but I wanted a challenge._

 **Out of Hand**

At the age of eight, Master Peter Crawley was notorious at Downton Abbey, to all residents, upstairs and down, as being a bit of a handful. Matthew always wondered if it was because he was their middle child. He was the one that challenged them, rebelled against them, and loved nothing more to poke fun at everyone and everything. George was the introspective, studious one. Little Margaret was the charming apple of her father's eye. But Peter was different. Mary nicknamed him her "little rapscallion". And although the tow-headed lad with the mischievous, piercing blue eyes, was the spitting image of his father, Mary swore his stubborn personality, quick wit and rebellious nature was all her.

"He's very much like I was, Matthew." said Mary for the umpteenth time, when she and Matthew were once again having a bedtime discussion about his latest antics – publicly making faces behind the back of the visiting Lady Carnarvon. "Perhaps I wasn't quite the jokester that Peter is. And my target was usually Edith. I certainly wouldn't have dared mock an adult…but there is no changing his basic nature. Just like my parents couldn't change me."

Matthew paced back and forth across their bedroom floor. He was at his wit's end. "I just wish he wasn't so bold, Mary. I honestly worry that he doesn't care what anyone thinks of his behaviour. How can you control a child like that? How is he going to learn to be respectable?"

"He did need to hear the scolding you gave him. But you must never make him think you favour George and Margaret over him."

Matthew gave her an incredulous look. "I love all our children, Mary."

"Yes, I know you do. But you never scold George or Margaret."

"Are you actually accusing me of being unfair? I never scold George or Margaret because they rarely do anything bad!"

Mary winced. She hated that they always argued about Peter. Although she agreed that the boy's behaviour could easily get out of hand, she had a soft spot for him. Perhaps it was because she carried a slight resentment for having long ago been labeled "the bad one".

"Matthew, you don't understand him because it's not within you to break rules. You went to law school, for goodness sake!"

Matthew stopped his pacing and took a deep breath. "You may have a point."

He turned and looked at Mary, She looked as though she was on the verge of tears. Matthew inwardly scolded himself. He should have known better than to upset his wife when she was so heavily pregnant. She already was physically exhausted and emotionally miserable. He instantly felt a pang of enormous guilt.

"I'm sorry, Mary. It's just been a long evening. I shouldn't have argued. I'm sorry."

"It's all right." She said, looking down.

"No. It's not," He made his way back to their bed, crawling under the covers beside her. "But I would rather hear you forgive me, than hear what I deserve for upsetting a pregnant woman."

Mary turned and faced him, sighing when she saw those pale blue eyes of his staring at her. "You're just lucky you're cute when you're angry."

Matthew smiled. He knew that when Mary joked with him, that he was forgiven. He added lightly, "And you can't say I don't have a rebellious streak. Remember, I am the middle-class sea monster who dared to challenge your family's traditions."

Mary grinned. "I suppose you do know how to misbehave on occasion."

"You know that more than anyone, darling." Matthew said with an arched brow.

He leaned in, stroked her cheek and gave her a lingering peck on the lips.

He then rested against the headboard, sighed and thought for a moment.

"You know, part of me cannot blame Peter too much for his apparent distaste for Lady Agnes. She is truly one of the most vile gossips I've ever met."

"Well…he WAS able to physically express what we were all feeling." said Mary, sarcastically.

Matthew and Mary both burst into giggles at that last thought.

He reached across and rubbed Mary's very large round belly affectionately. "And what challenges do you think number four will bring?"

"Oh, there is no predicting a Crawley child. Each one has their very own distinct personality. I wouldn't even hazard to guess."


	2. Chapter 2

_April 11, 2016 – Sorry for the wait. I hate abandoned stories, and plan not to do so here. This chapter introduces the AU three Crawley children: George (age 9), Peter (age 8), and Margaret (age 5)._

 **Chapter Two**

"Peter, give it back!", whined five-year old Margaret Crawley, as her brother snatched a piece of paper away from her. The little girl was often the target for his teasing, mainly because she was the tiniest Crawley. She was also the most forgiving and the most gullible.

"Peeeeterrr! Miss Joad, he took my drawing!"

Peter laughed as Margaret tried to grab it out of his hand. He held it up high above her head where she tried several times to jump up, but couldn't quite reach it. This made him laugh more.

Myrtle Joad sighed. She was a middle-aged woman, who had taught "one too many" children from wealthy families, was just about at her wit's end with the cheeky second son of Matthew and Lady Mary Crawley.

She looked up from her desk and sternly said: "Master Peter, give Miss Margaret back her paper! Now!" and immediately went back to her reading.

Peter handed Margaret back her paper, but not before sticking his tongue out at her.

Margaret looked shocked. "Papa doesn't like that, Peter!"

" _Papa doesn't like that, Peter_!" he mocked, in a funny, high voice back to her.

"Master Peter, get back to your seat!", Miss Joad cried. "Lord have mercy, with your mother in the hospital, the least you can do is behave for once!"

Annoyed, Peter dragged his feet while walking back to his seat and slumped down. He didn't understand why everyone was always at him about sitting still. For him, it was complete torture. Where was the fun in sitting still?

"Young gentlemen know how to sit quietly while taking their lessons. Look at Master George!"

Peter rolled his eyes. His older brother always had his nose in a book. Peter didn't think George was much fun at all. George was Granny Isobel's favourite, because he happily listened to all her nursing stories about the "boring war". Who wants to know about a boring war? When they catch frogs in the garden pond, George wants to study them. Peter just wants to stick them down servants' backs. Which he did once. Lucky for Peter, once Mr. Molesley got over the shock of having a slimy amphibian dropped down his jacket, he gave the boy a rather meek scolding, and fearing Mr. Crawley would be upset, remained silent on the matter.

"I want to see Mama!" exclaimed Peter.

George finally raised his face out of his book and calmly said, "Grandmama told us this morning that she's at the hospital with Papa. You know that, Peter."

"I don't care! want to see Mama!", said Peter louder.

Miss Joad countered, "Well, you can't see her until after she's had the baby." She tried a new tactic, asking him, "Won't that be exciting to have a new brother or sister?"

"Oh, yes! I do want a baby sister!" said Margaret, smiling sweetly.

"Babies are stupid!", moped Peter, slumping down in his school chair, kicking the desk in front of him.

Miss Joad sternly scolded him. "That's an awful thing to say! What your mother would think, if she heard you saying that!"

In truth, Peter adored his mother. She was the only one who ever seemed to understand him. Mama always had the knack of making him feel better when he got into trouble. He hated that for the last few months, she didn't have the energy to give him the attention he was used to. She was always tired and spent a lot of time in bed. And the bigger she got, the more irritable and impatient Papa seemed. Peter was angry about the coming baby. This baby made everything worse. Why should he be happy about it?

In the middle of the previous night, Mary began to have labour pains and Matthew began to panic. Usually, it was the father who was supposed to be soothing the mother, but for this pregnancy, it was the other way around, and for good reason. In her last pregnancy, five years previously, Mary had developed last-minute complications. Their daughter's birth had been a distressing one, with Mary almost not pulling through because of a hemorrhage. Matthew had been horribly traumatized by the experience.

"Let's go to the hospital. I'll get Carson to call Dr. Clarkson."

"Matthew, there's no need to rush to the hospital. It could be hours before the baby comes. I'd rather stay in my own bed until need be."

"Mary, please humour me this once. You will feel better once you're there."

"You mean _you_ will feel better."

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be fretting…"

"No, you shouldn't!"

"I…I would just rather we went early. Just in case."

Mary sighed. The worst part of her fourth pregnancy wasn't discomfort and exhaustion. It was Matthew's overreaction to every little thing. She recognized his facial expressions from when she was first pregnant with George. By now, an experienced father would be far more blasé about childbirth. But little Margaret's traumatic arrival put an end to that. His worst fears almost came true.

Mary finally relented and agreed to go to the hospital, hoping that Matthew would relax. Once they were there, his anxiety did not wain. The closer Mary was to delivering the baby, the worse he felt.

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asked, for about the fifth time.

Throughout this latest unexpected pregnancy, Matthew tried to remain calm and happy about it. He was absolutely devoted to his children and adored being a father. However, he could not shake the memory of Mary almost dying in childbirth. He tried to remind himself of his two sons' uncomplicated arrivals to soothe his nerves. But it did not stop the agonizing guilt that _he_ had brought this upon his wife and, once again, put her in possible danger.

When Dr. Clarkson came into Mary's hospital room and told them it was time for Matthew to leave, he could feel his throat close with panic.

"Matthew, I'm fine!", declared Mary.

Matthew took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. He needed reassurance. The frightened look on his face made her heart break.

Mary spoke quietly, trying to alleviate his angst, "Darling, I know this is hard for you. Truly, I'm feeling well. No alarm bells this time, I promise. Please believe me. I would never lie to you."

"I know. All right." he said, faintly.

He leaned over and kissed her. "I love you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please be safe."

Mary lovingly stroking his cheek, and assured him, "I love you, too. And Crawley child #4 and I are doing just fine. We will both see you in a little while."

Matthew gave her a sad smile, leaned in kissed her again, and reluctantly got up to leave. He gave her one last longing look, torn between wanting to stay or go, before he finally walked out the door.

-End of Chapter Two-

 _Well, you know I had to end with a cliff hanger, didn't you? ;)_


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